Notes on writing about maintenance

I’m still waiting for the definitive book by a superintendent about what day-to-day work life actually looks and feels like.

A few private conversations with potential greenkeeper scribes has gotten my hopes up over the years. You know who you are, and now that retirement is on your horizon there is no excuse for not typing away. Who cares if you piss people off in the process? Nobody ever wrote anything memorable without at least 17 percent of readers feeling betrayed.

I’m aware of the few books out there that come close to doing the job. Canadian Gorden Witteveen’s “A Century of Greenkeeping” (2001) is limited to a history of the Ontario scene. Witteveen and Michael Bavier’s “Practical Golf Course Maintenance” (1998) is more of a how-to-book.

Melvin B. Lucas Jr.’s “A History of Greenkeeping” (2020) is encyclopedic but hardly touches upon what it is like to be a superintendent. Dr. Trey Rogers’ “Lawn Geek (2007) explores the craft of home yard cultivation from a turf expert’s view. I had very high hopes for Gordon Moir’s “St. Andrews – The Greenkeeper’s Tale” (2022) but came away thinking the story is too specific to the intricacies of the home of golf and too invested in the author’s sense of self. Ben Ellis describes the emotions and tactics of becoming a head superintendent for the first time in “The First Hundred Days” (2021).

So, what prevents this book about the day-to-day machinations of turfgrass management from being written? I can’t help but think that a volume based on the complex emotions of the day-to-day grind — the love, science, detail, sweat, absurdity, humor, physical exhaustion and frustration — would be a big hit. Big enough, at least, to make a publisher and the author some money, and entertaining and informative enough to inject much-needed respect into the profession.

Part of the reason such a book is yet forthcoming, I suspect, is because of widespread misconceptions about the writing process. I encountered this two decades ago when I would occasionally teach writing seminars for the GCSAA and its regional chapters. I realized how uncomfortable most superintendents were sitting down and writing. That’s not a judgment, merely an observation. Greenkeepers are practical people with a penchant for material results in the field. Writing, by contrast, is an elusive craft that requires vast expanses of time yielding limited results. It also entails cooperation from folks like editors, publishers and reviewers that can often prove frustratingly out of one’s control.

A few rules or guidelines, then, for breaking through the fog and getting one to sit down and write:

Never wait for inspiration.

The biggest myth non-writers have about putting pen to paper or attacking the keyboard is that it requires a brilliant idea. Most writing is a chore — one I attend to for three to four hours every day, regardless of how I am feeling. It’s a job, not a flash moment that awaits a sign from the gods.

Write what you know and feel. The best writing comes from personal experience. I draw upon the feelings I have as I experience things, whether it’s a golf hole, a memorable person or an awkward encounter. If you keep track of your own thoughts and feelings, you can draw upon them when writing in a way that will resonate with readers.

Think about your audience and the impression you want to convey. Imagine who is going to read what you are writing and try to think about what you want them to come away with from their encounter with what you have written. It might be a sense of what goes into aerifying greens and why it is needed. Perhaps you want to communicate a sense of the people on your crew and what makes them interesting characters to work with. Or you could be conveying the weather conditions or other uncontrollable factors that influence the course conditions they face.

Convert turf talk into golf talk. My experience is that most superintendents are comfortable in the esoterica of grass, chemistry, disease pressure, mechanical operations and irrigation but have trouble conveying the importance of such details to a lay audience of golfers. The more you can turn turf talk into golf talk, the more successful you will be. How does the topic translate for a golfer trying to enjoy his or her game and to play better?

Maybe some of this will take away the veil of mystery that makes writing such an elusive undertaking. If so, feel free to get to work on that industry-revealing memoir.